When One Door Closes
by onceuponajollyroger
Summary: Just as Milah slams the apartment door in Killian's face, he meets the gorgeous, challenging, and rather feisty blonde living next door. [Captain Swan Modern AU]
1. Chapter 1

Emma groaned in annoyance as the sound of yelling down the hallway escalated. The neighbors in the apartment a few doors down had been at it for hours. Emma turned up the volume on her TV in an attempt to drown out the thudding sounds of what she imagined where someone's belongings being tossed out of the apartment. Emma tried to take calming breaths and concentrate on the program displayed on her television, but her blood boiled with anger as they continued their obnoxious fight. She was a grown woman not a student living in a dorm; she shouldn't have to deal with obnoxious neighbors.

Emma rose from her couch and stomped across her apartment. Just as she yanked opened the door and poked her head out into the hallway, she caught sight of a pile of two suitcases, some jackets, and shoes splayed out on the floor. A tall man with raven black hair was standing in the hallway pleading with someone, his girlfriend Emma presumed, before a door slammed in his face. Emma flinched back as the loud bang echoed through the hallway. She stepped out of her apartment and into the hall, watching from a distance as the man started to pace angrily around the hall in front of his apartment.

He was incredibly attractive. Why hadn't she seen him around before? Did he live there or was he just visiting? Emma shook her head and inwardly scolded herself. This was none of her business. Now that he had been kicked out, the two would likely go their separate ways and be quiet. She turned to go back into her apartment when she heard a loud cracking noise followed by a sharp intake of a breath and a pained gasp.

Emma whipped around to see the man slumped over on the ground, clutching his left hand to his chest as he took labored breaths. She looked over next to him to see a fist imprint in the wall, which had been stopped by the now exposed stud. Emma rolled her eyes in exasperation- men and their temper tantrums. She hesitated in her doorway for just a minute, conflicted over whether or not to help the poor bastard. She doesn't know this guy. He could be a real creep. Plus, he had just been broken up with, maybe there was something wrong with him. Before she could make up her mind, her body chose for her as her feet started walking towards the dark-haired stranger.

Emma strolled up to the man and stopped when she was about a foot away. She towered above him as she looked down to get a better look at his hand. "This just isn't your day, buddy," she teased.

The man winced in pain as he looked up to meet Emma's gaze. "You're telling me. I am in hell," he spit back bitterly. "Actually," he continued as he looked over Emma from head to toe, "perhaps not. You do look quite angelic," he teased as he flashed her a toothy grin and wiggled his eyebrows.

Emma rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips defiantly. Flirty bastard. This was probably why his belongings were out in the hallway and not in his girlfriend's, _ex-girlfriend's_, apartment. She opened her mouth to reprimand him, but when she looked down to glare at him, she froze for a moment, stunned by his piercing blue eyes. God, she wanted to stare into those bright blue eyes forever and run her hands through his messy dark hair. Emma coughed into her hand as she pushed aside her ridiculous feelings, refusing to let her attraction to this man cloud her judgment. She straightened her back and responded back in a confident, serious tone. "Come on, let's go" she commanded as she pulled on his right arm and helped him to his feet.

"Where are we going?" he asked through gritted teeth as he staggered to his feet.

"We better get that looked at," she remarked as she nodded down towards his bruised and bleeding left hand.

Emma began to regret her kindness as soon as she started helping the idiot retrieve his belongings. He could only take hold of one suitcase on account of his bum hand, which left Emma to tackle the other and a pile of jackets. Not willing to take multiple trips up and down the stairs, _not because she was lazy but because he was hurt_, she put one of his jackets on and threw the other two over the suitcase. As soon as the leather was against her body every breath she took was filled with his scent: spice and was that rum? Whatever it was, she liked it, too much. This had been such an awful idea. Bright blue eyes, messy black hair, intoxicating scent, sultry British accent, Emma was in over her head already.

After an awkward and tiresome trip down the stairs, Emma led him to her yellow bug and loaded his belongings into the back. He helped as best as he could with the one hand, and then went to sit in the passenger seat.

"Aye, lass," he called as she shut the trunk of her bug. She rolled her eyes and walked around the side to where he was sitting. "Give a fellow a hand?" he asked as he nodded down towards the seatbelt.

"Is that a joke?" she asked, bemused, as she gave him an incredulous look.

He simply stared back at her with a crooked grin and a raised eyebrow, challenging her to make the next move.

She stared back at him for a minute, not wanting to look away first, _yes they were being that childish_, before she finally leaned in and fastened his seatbelt for him. Bastard.

"Now I could get use to this," he replied back as he swiped his tongue across his bottom lip seductively.

Emma tugged the seatbelt hard and slammed the car door behind her, knocking it into his hurt left hand. She heard him whimpering as she walked around the front of the car and headed for the driver's seat, but she made sure to wipe the satisfied smirk off her face before she looked over to check on him.

He chuckled when she finally met his gaze and gave a somewhat disapproving, yet proud, nod. "You're quite the tough lass."

"You have no idea," Emma challenged before turning up the radio, _loudly_, and taking off towards the hospital.

Traffic on a late Thursday night was nearly nonexistent; they arrived at the hospital in record time. To Emma's dismay though, as they entered the emergency room, it appeared that everyone in Boston had decided to get into some sort of accident that night too. She inwardly groaned thinking of the wait ahead. They walked up to the reception and were greeted by a nurse. "Name and injury please," she requested in sweet, but exhausted voice.

Just then Emma realized that she didn't even know the guy's name. She had helped him, moved his belongings, fastened his seatbelt, _she inwardly cringed at that_, and even drove him to the hospital without thinking to ask his name.

"Killian Jones," he responded coolly, "and I think I've broken my hand," he said with a wince as he raised it up for the nurse to see. She nodded her head, clearly unfazed by the sight, before handing him a clipboard with paperwork to complete.

He took the clipboard awkwardly before going to take a seat with Emma in the waiting room.

"Killian Jones," she said as she looked over at him.

He smiled and nodded. "Aye, and I didn't catch your name, Miss-" he began, leaning forward on bated breath for her to continue.

"Emma Swan," she replied.

He smiled at that before turning to extend the clipboard out to her. "Well Swan, would you do a poor fellow a favor and fill this out for me?"

Emma gave him an unbelieving look before he sheepishly continued, "I'm left handed."

She chuckled wryly before taking the clipboard from him. "Bad luck for you."

Over the course of the next forty-five minutes and what seemed like a never-ending pile of paperwork, Emma learned quite a few mundane details about Killian Jones. He's allergic to penicillin, he broke his leg when he was twelve years old, and his blood type is B positive. She also learned a few pointed details as well. "Who's your emergency contact?" she asked as she stared down at the paperwork. After he was silent for far too long, Emma looked up to see his brow furrowed.

"Well, it used to be my girlfriend, Milah, but I don't think we ought to put her down. At this point, she'd probably tell them to pull the plug," he quipped, smiling when Emma laughed at his joke.

"Just put your mom down like everyone else," she replied before immediately regretting her words.

He looked away, giving a strained smile and scratching his ear nervously before replying quietly, "Just put down my mate, David Nolan."

Emma continued to fill out the paperwork as he dictated the answers until finally all the documents were completed. She turned the documents into the receptionist before going to grab a cup of coffee for Killian and a hot chocolate for herself.

They made small talk for the first hour of their wait, and Emma had to admit, she was starting to like this Killian Jones. Sure, he was a flirty jerk at times, but when he wasn't trying to impress her, when he was just being himself, he was actually a pretty decent guy. He was funny, and charming, and she couldn't deny that he was incredibly intelligent.

It wasn't until hour two of their emergency room wait that Emma finally worked up the courage to ask him the question that had been nagging at her since they completed his paperwork. "Killian, why is your emergency contact your best friend?" she asked quietly, hating the way she sounded like a small child when the question left her lips.

He shook his head in understanding before looking down to stare into his lap. "Aye, I knew I wasn't going to get away with that one. I applaud you for waiting this long to ask," he joked, but with no mirth in his voice.

"You don't have to answer me, I was just curious-"

"No, no, Swan, you're doing a great deal for me tonight. The least I can do is tell you a little bit about myself," he began before embarking on a short version of his life's story. He grew up in the UK with his mother, father, and brother. His mother passed away from cancer when he was seven, leaving the boys of the family alone. His father did not cope well and turned to alcohol to fill the void left in his heart. Eventually, he ran out on his sons, leaving Liam to raise Killian. When Killian was in college, Liam died in a tragic accident.

They were both quiet for a moment as Emma's mouth hung slightly ajar in shock and sadness. Killian gave her an apologetic look before reaching out to touch her shoulder with his good hand. "Listen, Swan, I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have laid such a heavy story on you. I just-"

"My emergency contact is my best friend, Mary Margaret," she blurted out before he could continue.

"What?" he asked in surprise.

"I grew up in the foster system. My best friend is my emergency contact too," she answered quietly, unsure of what the hell was happening. She never, _ever_, told people, let alone strangers, about her past.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear we're kindred spirits in that regard, Swan."

They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes before Emma excused herself to go to the bathroom. Really what she needed to do was escape. She took a cool drink of water for the sink and touched up her makeup, twice, before returning to the waiting room, _not because of Killian Jones of course_, but because she felt more confident in flawless makeup.

When she sat back down the two glossed over their last conversation- not ignoring, but tucking away to process later- and went straight into more exciting, pleasant topics of discussion. Killian asked to hear about Emma's friend, Mary Margaret. She was surprised that he'd asked, and she wasn't entirely sure that he was genuinely interested, but Emma loved talking about her best friend all the same. When she had shared all she'd wished, Emma turned the tables and made him tell her everything and anything he could about Europe. She'd always wanted to visit, but had never gotten the opportunity.

"Well Swan, if you ever get the chance to visit Ireland, you have to visit County Wicklow. It's gorg-"

"_Killian Jones_," boomed the loud voice of a nurse waiting by the door to the emergency room.

"Bloody finally," he groaned as he jumped up in excitement. "Swan, I promise I'll finish that story another time."

She rose behind him and started to walk towards the emergency room with him before Killian stopped in place. "Emma, you don't have to come back with me, lass. Really, you've already done more than enough."

She shifted on her feet and gave him a small smile. "Actually, I have your stuff in my car, so I kind of do have to stay with you. Besides, I don't need to be anywhere else."

Killian ran his tongue along the bottom of his teeth as he looked into her eyes, searching them for sincerity, Emma suspected, before he simply nodded and continued to follow the nurse into the back.

They were escorted back to see the doctor, left alone to sit on an exam table behind a drawn curtain and continue the ceaseless wait. Killian finished telling Emma about Europe and had moved on to telling her about the time he broke his leg when finally, finally, a doctor emerged to see him.

The doctor looked to be in his late twenties and had blonde hair. He was flipping through Killian's clipboard before he looked up to shake their hands. "Hello Mr. Jones. I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting. We've been absolutely slammed tonight," he chimed as he stepped past him to greet Emma, "and you must be the most patient girlfriend ever. Again, I apologize for the long wait."

Emma and Killian both opened their mouths to correct the doctor, but he continued talking before they could.

Both turned bright shades of red as the man moved along. "I'm Dr. Whale. Now, let me get a look at that hand."

They waited over three hours to see this Dr. Whale, and they were only with the man for less than thirty minutes. Ridiculous. As soon as he looked at Killian's wrist, Dr. Whale confirmed it was broken. He fitted Killian with a cast, wrote him a prescription for painkillers, and dashed along to see the next patient.

When they were finally back in Emma's bug, she let out a sigh of relief. "Finally, we're free. Hospitals always make me anxious."

Killian sucked in a deep, nervous breath before responding. "You did me a great kindness tonight, Swan. I really appreciate it," he said, sincerity laden in his voice.

Emma didn't know how to respond to him. If she was being honest, she stayed because she had enjoyed herself. She enjoyed his company. "So, Killian," she mumbled tentatively, broaching the proverbial elephant in the room, "I'm assuming you can't go back to your apartment."

He nodded solemnly. "Aye, indeed. I'll crash at my friend Dave's place for a bit." He gave her directions to David's house, which was far closer to the hospital than either of them would have liked. The drive was far too short, and as Emma began to approach the neighborhood where Killian's friend lived, her heart began to beat anxiously. What happened when they said goodbye? He wasn't going to be living down the hall from her anymore. What if she never saw him again? Why was this even bothering her? She shouldn't be falling like this; she was Emma Swan, strong, independent, she did not do relationships, especially with a guy who was just dumped. Still, her heart panged at the idea of driving away from him. She was screwed.

"Here, this is it," Killian stated as he looked out the window and pointed towards a small, but cozy looking white house on the corner. Emma pulled into the driveway and sat silently, staring forward, absolutely refusing, and somewhat unable, to meet his gaze.

He didn't make a move either, at first, just content to sit quietly in the car, just content to be with her.

"Listen, Emma," he began as he finally broke their silence, "there's no way I can properly thank you for all you've done tonight. Seriously, lass, you're bloody brilliant, amazing."

Emma quickly looked down into her lap as her cheeks began to redden. Emma had never known how to take a compliment; actually she'd never had much reason to know. Aside from Mary Margaret, there wasn't anyone around to pay her compliments. "It's nothing. Really," she answered bashfully.

"No, it is. Perhaps I could take you for coffee or dinner sometime, to repay your kindness," he requested hopefully. "Not for a little while though, considering I just punched a wall after breaking up with my girlfriend," he tacked on with a wry grin. "I need to sort out a few matters first."

Emma chuckled at that, but didn't answer. She was completely conflicted, her heart telling her one thing and her mind telling her another.

Killian's lilting voice interrupted her thoughts. "Please, lass, say yes. I'd hate for tonight to be it."

She let out a sigh as she reached beside her for her purse. God, she felt the exact same way. Tonight couldn't be it. This couldn't be some 'one time' experience. She fiddled around in her purse before she pulled out a business card and handed it over to the handsome stranger- _acquaintance with promise_.

"Emma Swan, Bail Bondsperson" he read aloud with an intrigued face. He tucked the card into the breast pocket of his jacket before giving her a wink and exiting the car. Just then, a man, David, Emma assumed, emerged from the house. He exchanged a few words with Killian before helping him take his belongings out from the back of her car. David lugged a suitcase and jackets into his house as Killian slowly followed along, clearly dragging out his walk to let David enter the house first.

Killian was less than halfway across the yard when he turned around and called back to Emma through the open window of the car. "You know, Swan, you were wrong earlier."

Emma furrowed her eyebrows as she ducked forward to make eye contact with him. "Wrong about what?" she asked in confusion.

"This most certainly was my day," he said with a toothy grin before he turned and left.

* * *

**I hope you all enjoyed this AU! My friend, Marcela, sent me the fabulous prompt. I'm considering expanding this into a multipart story, but I'm not quite sure yet. I'd love to hear some feedback/opinions about it.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your encouraging reviews on part one. I was blown away by the positive response. I appreciate all the sweet reviews, favorites, and follows. After such an overwhelming response, there was no way I wasn't going to expand this fic! When One Door Closes will be about five or six parts long.**

**Also, a special shout out to the lovely, Marcela, emmas-prince, for sending me the prompt that inspired this story!**

* * *

_Two weeks._

Two weeks ago, Emma Swan gave that idiot with the charming accent, piercing blue eyes, and goofy grin her phone number, and he hadn't called her once- not that she'd been checking her phone or awaiting a call.

Emma Swan was _not_ the type of woman to wait around and daydream about some dumb bastard who broke his hand by punching a wall. At least work took her mind off of him for most of the two weeks. A client ditched bail, _again_, leaving Emma to hunt down the con. Soon enough though, she'd found him, which left her back at her apartment, watching TV, and wondering why the hell that idiot hadn't called her.

She turned up the volume on her TV, content to drown out her anger with comedies, pizza, and maybe some wine if she was feeling adventurous. Just as she was flipping channels, she heard a loud knock on her door. Excellent, Emma thought cheerily. Her pizza had arrived.

Emma grabbed her wallet and pulled open the door, gasping, _more like grimacing_, when she saw an unexpected, pizza-less man standing before her.

"Ouch. Someone does not appear happy to see me," Killian feigned laughter as he nervously reached up to scratch his ear.

Emma blinked a few times and shook her head, stunned. "Killian, what are you doing here?" she asked in surprise.

Killian raised a suggestive eyebrow before responding with the smooth flick of his tongue. "I came to call on the lady Swan. Does that surprise you?"

Emma hesitated for a minute, giving him a puzzled expression before she answered. "Well, it's been two weeks, and you never called. I assumed you'd—"

"No, no, Swan, you've got it all wrong," Killian cut in before she could continue. "I wanted to sort things out with Milah before calling you," he insisted anxiously. "I felt it was more respectful that way to both of you," he tacked on quietly.

What? Now Emma was even more confused. "Well, aren't you afraid she's going to walk out and see you here talking with another woman? That would be a little awkward," Emma answered back.

"Actually," he began swiping his tongue along his bottom lip as he smiled, "Milah decided to move back to Chicago to be closer to her family. I got the apartment."

Emma's mouth fell open at his words. "You two are over then?"

"Aye."

"And you're living down the hall from me?" Emma asked incredulously.

"Aye."

_Shit._

* * *

Mary Margaret's eyes widened in surprise, and she nearly spit out her coffee once Emma finished her tale. "He's your neighbor again?"

"Yes."

"And he's single now?" Mary Margaret continued, her voice growing louder and her excitement becoming more visible as she practically bounced in her seat.

"Yes," Emma answered reluctantly, keeping her voice low so the other patrons of the cozy coffee shop adjacent to her apartment complex would not hear their conversation.

Mary Margaret was quiet for a moment, her mood shifting from near giddiness to seriousness before she reached across the table and took Emma's hand in her own. "Emma, you _have_ to ask him out."

Emma gaped at Mary Margaret in surprise, and annoyance, and perhaps betrayal too. Really, whose side was she on? "What? Absolutely not. He's an _idiot_. He broke his wrist _punching a wall_. He takes every opportunity to flirt with me. He's incapable of keeping his tongue in his mouth for more than a minute at a time, and I'm confident that his eyebrows are going to walk right off his face one of these days. No. Just no," Emma spewed her diatribe rapidly. Killian Jones was a bad idea.

Mary Margaret was beaming, her smile so big that her eyes squinted with joy. "Emma, you've got it bad," she said with understanding.

Emma gave her a stern glare. "I don't like him."

Mary Margaret raised a challenging eyebrow at her friend before responding confidently. "Killian is an orphan like you. He grew up in Europe and raves about Ireland. He supports Liverpool in soccer, and apparently his best friend, and emergency contact, is some guy named David." Mary Margaret paused for effect before she finally made her point. "How do I know all of that, Emma?"

"I don't know," Emma answered back grudgingly, staring down into her lap, resolutely refusing to meet Mary Margaret's boasting gaze.

Mary Margaret shook Emma's hand in her own, urging her friend to look up and listen to her. "I know all of that because ever since that night in the hospital you've done nothing but talk about him, and I know you spent the last two weeks checking your phone to see if he's called. Emma, you never talk about guys. This is serious. Ask him out."

* * *

What was she doing? This was a bad idea.

He just got out of a relationship; he's not looking to enter another one. He just wants to have someone to flirt with down the hall. Maybe this was a bad idea.

Though, Mary Margaret was usually right, and this was her idea. _Screw it_, Emma thought as she threw open her apartment door and stomped down the hall to Killian's. She stopped in front of his apartment door, wiped her sweaty palms on her pants, took a deep breath, and raised her hand to knock on the door. Before she did though, she heard voices coming from inside.

Was it Milah? Was he seeing someone else? _No, don't be stupid, Emma, it's probably the TV,_ she inwardly chided herself before finally summoning the courage to knock on the door.

Before she could blink, Killian was standing before her with an excited smirk. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a white tee. He even looked handsome in sweats; God, she was in trouble.

"Lass, it's good to see you," he chimed. Emma smiled back, because she had a thing with lies, and she could tell he was truly happy to see her. He may be a flirty bastard, but at least he was sincere.

"What brings you here?" he inquired.

Just like she had practiced in her mirror- more times than she would ever admit- Emma simply blurted it out quickly. "I'm here to ask you out," she began confidently,"…to dinner, or something," she continued, her courage faltering slightly.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you out?" Killian teased, but quickly amended his statement when he saw Emma frown. "I will happily accept on one condition: you let me plan the evening."

Emma paused for a minute, considering his proposal. "Alright, that's a deal, but just so you know, I don't fool around on the first date."

"Emma," Killian gasped theatrically, "what type of man do you take me for? I'm a gentleman."

Emma rolled her eyes before shifting on her feet. Ok, she'd gotten what she came for, but she just couldn't bring herself to leave him just yet. She wanted to stay here, talk with him, learn more about Killian Jones.

"Were you talking to someone before I knocked?" she asked, leaning forward to try and peek into his apartment.

Killian blushed, his face going beat red as he scratched at his ear. "Where are my manners? Swan, please come in," he finally responded before opening the door wide and motioning for her to enter.

Emma took a cautious step into his apartment, gasping at what she saw, or what she didn't see. The place was practically empty. All Emma found was a sad looking mattress on the floor in front of a TV, which lacked a stand. There was a bowl of pancakes _—a bowl?—_ and adjacent to the mattress was a large pet cage with a turtle inside.

"Emma, meet the other woman in my life: Wendy," Killian said as he waved to the cage with his cast-bound left hand.

Emma was quiet for a minute before it clicked. "Were you talking to your turtle, Wendy?" Emma asked with an amused grin on her face.

Killian cast his gaze downward, refusing to meet her eyes as he shifted on his feet.

Emma brought a hand up to her face to hide the large smile residing there, threatening to stay forever because _what a dork_. "Never mind, where's your furniture? Why are you eating pancakes out of a bowl?"

Killian hesitated before answering. His eyebrows were furrowed in thought as he mulled over exactly how he should answer her questions. "Well, Milah bought all the furniture for the apartment, so she took it with her to Chicago."

"Plates?" Emma continued, nodding towards the bowl.

"She bought those too."

Emma was immediately conflicted. The guy she had just asked out had been sitting on a mattress, eating pancakes from a bowl, and chatting with a turtle mere minutes before she arrived.

"Killian Jones, you're a mess," Emma said, both disbelieving and bemused at the spectacle.

Killian sighed. "I know it doesn't look like it, but, I assure you, I'm a mature, professional adult; I'm just having a bad few weeks, Swan."

Emma let out a sympathetic laugh before looking over to peer at Wendy. His turtle. The one he talks to. "Ok, Killian, go put on some jeans; we're going on that date now."

Killian shot her a puzzled expression before simply nodding and walking off to his bedroom. He returned five minutes later wearing a pair of jeans and an open, red checkered shirt over his white tee. "Swan," he began bashfully, "could you button my shirt." He waved up his cast apologetically as he awaited her response.

Emma shook her head and strolled across the living room to begin buttoning his shirt. "First I had to buckle your seatbelt, and now I'm here buttoning up your shirt. I cannot wait for this hand to be healed."

"You're too good to me, Swan. I should repay the favor," he responded with a cheeky grin and an obscene eyebrow waggle. How could he possibly jump back and forth between being a bashful, charming guy, to being an absurd, flirty idiot? It was almost a talent.

Emma shot him a challenging glare before firing back as she gave his cast a gentle tap. "Killian, we're not doing anything until _you_ can _un_button _my_ shirt." Killian's mouth fell open, clearly stunned by her boldness. Before he could counter, Emma began walking out of the apartment, yelling behind her for him to grab his wallet and meet her at her car.

* * *

"A _furniture store_?" Killian asked incredulously, a disappointed frown tugging at his mouth as he looked out Emma's car window.

"Yes, Killian, a furniture store. You're a 'mature, professional adult.' You need to stop living like you're a twenty-year-old frat boy," Emma scolded gently before parking and staring back at him.

Killian laughed at that. "I was right when I first met you, Swan: you're a bloody angel."

Emma's face reddened at his compliment, another genuine one if her lie detector was correct, which it always was. She stepped out of the car and headed into the store, Killian following behind.

What should have been a simple trip for essential furniture, because really a guy with only a mattress is in no position to be picky, turned into an all-out quest. Killian insisted on not only sitting, but _lying_ on every couch before he finally, _finally_ chose one. And, if Emma was being honest, she did not exactly expedite the process. Emma had always had a flair for interior design, and she thoroughly enjoyed decorating—and redecorating—her apartment from time to time. Perhaps she too had gone a bit overboard.

"This recliner, _Killian_, you have to get this recliner," she chirped happily as she rocked back and forth in the chair. Killian beamed over at her from his place in the armchair at her right. "I like this side of you, Swan. You're in your element here."

Emma hopped up from her recliner before tugging on his right arm, ushering him out of his own. "Let's go look at TV stands!" Killian followed her around the store, practically having to jog to keep up with her pace. He ended up picking most of the furniture she suggested; he couldn't deny she had a knack for this. Once a couch, recliner, television stand, and kitchen table set had been chosen, only one piece of furniture remained: a bed.

Before they even made their way to the bed section, Emma mentally prepared herself for what she knew would inevitably spew from that absurd mouth of his. They were there for less than ten seconds before he began.

"Well, Swan, I will certainly be requiring your help with this next piece," he said with a wink before sitting on a nearby bed and patting the space next to him, beckoning for her to join him.

Emma rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in defiance before walking off to test another bed. Emma laid back and shut her eyes, nearly falling asleep on the heavenly bed. If Killian bought this one, she may just have to break her first date rule.

Emma was brought out of her trancelike state by another one of Killian's ridiculous innuendos. "Now _that_ is a sight I could get used to, though you may be overdressed," Killian whispered seductively into her ear as he gently took a seat next to her, trying not to shake the bed as he did. Goosebumps lined her arms as she sat up and shook her head at him. She wanted to be angry at him because he could be such a pompous bastard at times, but really, she just wanted to grab him by his shirt, run her hands through his already messy hair, and kiss that smug look right off his face.

"Do you ever give it a rest?" Emma asked, exasperated.

"Not really," Killian replied with a teasing grin before bouncing on the bed. "Hmm, I do like this one, but I still need to check the others."

To Emma's dismay, he did check the others, _all the others_, and as he sat on each bed, he came up with a new lewd comment to throw her way. Really, he must have had a book full of them. At last, after he tested _every _bed in the store, he settled on the first one they'd tried, the one Emma favored.

* * *

After a few hours at the furniture store, Emma and Killian had finally returned to their apartment complex. They walked together to his door, stopping outside to say their goodbyes.

"Do you need anything to get by," Emma asked sincerely before adding with a lighter note, "that is, until I drag you out to get dishes?"

Killian smiled back at her before shaking his head. "No. Really, Emma, you've already done enough for me. What with the emergency room and now furniture shopping, you've been amazing."

Emma simply shrugged her shoulders and looked away, avoiding eye contact, before he could continue.

"Don't do that," he scolded gently. "Don't brush it off; I mean it. I'm lucky to have found you."

"_Technically_, I found you," Emma corrected with a sly grin.

Killian nodded his head in agreement. "Aye, well, I'm going to absolutely blow you away with our date. Just you wait, Swan."

Emma gave him a challenging look before responding. "I'll hold you to that, Killian. I have pretty high standards."

"I'm sure you do."

They stared back at each other, Emma getting lost in his sea blue eyes, and Killian admiring the emerald green shade of hers.

Emma rubbed her hands together awkwardly. She really, _really_ wanted to kiss him, but she hesitated, fearful because she had no idea what _they_ were. Emma was good at many things, but dating just wasn't one of them.

Killian gave her a knowing look before he raised his right hand up to stroke her arm and leaned in to kiss her. He stopped just before her lips, waiting for her to make the final move.

_Screw it_, Emma thought, as she leaned forward to meet his lips, running her hand through his tousled hair as she did.

It felt even more amazing than she'd imagined, _not that she'd been imaging it often._ His hair was soft between her fingers, and he tasted just as good as he smelled. And yet, despite all his bravado, all the obscene innuendos, there was something gentle about his kiss. Killian let her lead the way, though she could tell by his tightened grip on her forearm that he was struggling to hold himself back. The kiss was brief, far shorter than Emma truly wanted as desire shot through her entire body like an electric current. She forced herself to pull away after a few seconds, not wanting to get carried away _yet_.

"That was—" Killian began as he pressed two fingers against his reddened lips.

"Goodnight, Killian," Emma said back in a satisfied tone before she flounced down the hall, swaying her hips as she went because Killian Jones wasn't the only one who knew how to_ devastate _someone.

Emma was already back to her apartment, halfway through the door, when he finally got his wits back and shouted out a breathy 'goodnight.'

She peered out of the apartment, trying not to be seen as she watched him stare ahead, a dazed expression across his face.

Emma beamed with pride before she finally closed her apartment door and simply leaned against it, catching her breath. Emma was not the type to fall head over heels for a guy, in fact, the idea scared the hell out of her, but she vowed not to let this worry her, not today, because she just wrecked Killian Jones with a simple kiss.

That poor bastard had no idea what he was in for when his new bed arrived.

* * *

**I hope you all enjoyed chapter two as much as the first one! I cannot promise to post chapter three as quickly as I posted this update, since I'm going back to school next weekend. I will try to get it up within the next two weeks. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought of this chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Again, I cannot possibly thank you all enough for reading, reviewing, and following this story. Your support means the world to me. When One Door Closes will be expanded to seven parts- six chapters and an epilogue. (I can't believe I originally intended this to be a oneshot...)**

**Please note that this chapter is rated M. (The rest of the story is/will be rated T.) **

* * *

"Turn it to the left! No, _my _left!" came David's muffled voice as it echoed through the hallway and into the open door of Killian's apartment.

Killian and Emma turned to each other from their places in Killian's new living room recliners. After a few days of waiting, Killian's furniture had finally arrived. Emma offered to help move it in, wanting to support him, but truly, she was eager to organize and decorate his apartment. She'd roped Mary Margaret into helping, which turned out to be a huge mistake, considering that she and David immediately clashed.

"I _did_! It still doesn't fit," Mary Margaret's exasperated and clearly annoyed voice retorted.

"Pivot! Pivot!" David ordered as the two continued to struggle in the nearby stairway.

Emma could hear Mary Margaret growl all the way in the apartment. "If you don't shut up, I'm going to pivot my foot up your—"

"Maybe I should go out there and help them," Emma commented as she turned to look towards Killian.

Killian let out a chuckle and shook his head in amusement. "Are you kidding? This is golden. Let's see what they do if we leave them be," he responded, flashing her a devilish smirk. "Besides, we moved these recliners in; we're on our break."

"Killian, all you've done is 'manage' with that conveniently broken hand of yours," Emma scolded as she pushed him lightly on the shoulder. She forced herself out of the comfortable recliner and set off to go intervene. Before Emma was even halfway across the living room, Mary Margaret rushed through the door, face red with anger.

"_Prince Charming_ out there is absolutely unbearable," she spewed venomously. "Emma, you go help him. I'll find something to do in here."

Eventually, Emma and David were able to get the couch through the stairway and, with Mary Margaret's begrudging help, into the apartment.

After the kitchen and living room furniture had been arranged to Killian's– _and Emma's_– satisfaction, their hours of tiresome moving had finally come to an end.

"Killian, it was absolutely lovely to meet you," Mary Margaret chirped brightly as she put on her sweater and grabbed her purse, "but I really need to get home."

"I'm leaving too; I'll walk you out," David offered cordially from his place across the room.

Mary Margaret's bright exterior instantly turned bitter as she scowled at him. "No chance, buddy. I know the way out without your help."

David rolled his eyes, but still followed her out the door with a chuckle, calling back _"Great to meet you, Emma"_ on his way out.

Killian shook his head in disbelief. "Looks like we won't be going on any double dates with _those _two," he jested.

Emma laughed in response. She had never seen Mary Margaret act that way with anyone before; the entire afternoon had been _interesting_. "At least you're moved in now."

He nodded in agreement from his place next to Wendy's new cage stand. "Aye, and the bed will be here in a couple days," he said with that same suggestive eyebrow waggle that made Emma simultaneously want to slap him and want to climb him like a tree.

She shot him her best glare before responding. "You're unbearable. Text me sometime, and we'll make plans for a real date."

* * *

A few days after Emma helped Killian move his new furniture into the apartment, she received a text message from him.

_Swan, the new bed is here. Care to come over and help me break it in? ;)_

Emma rolled her eyes in exasperation. Of course he sent a winky face, _of course_. She glared down at her phone with a small smirk on her face as she thought of a clever response to knock him down a peg or two.

_Sorry, Killian, I'm busy right now. You'll have to break it in by yourself._

She then sent another message for good measure.

_Hope that cast doesn't throw off your rhythm. ;)_

Emma made sure to send a wink back just to spite the bastard before she sat and waited. He took a while to reply, likely due to that hand.

_Bad form, Swan. Bad form._

He sent another text an hour later to make plans for their impending date. They went back and forth for a few minutes until they were finally able to settle on a mutually free evening. Unfortunately with their work schedules and other obligations, they couldn't meet for an entire week.

At first, Emma had absolutely dreaded the idea of waiting an entire week for their date, but Killian made sure to keep her entertained as the week passed by sending her funny text messages every day while he was at work.

As the week progressed, he changed his tactics and started sending the occasional picture of Wendy. _His turtle. The one he talks_ _to._ Emma rolled her eyes every time he sent one, telling him how much of a dork he was, and thanking the stars that he wasn't around to see the ridiculous smile plastered on her face.

Finally, a week passed and Saturday arrived, which meant it was time for their date. Mary Margaret insisted on coming over to Emma's apartment early to help do her hair and makeup. To Emma's dismay, her well-intentioned, but somewhat annoying friend made her try on _every_ dress she owned.

After some deliberation, Emma settled on one of her favorites: a tea length, sky blue dress with off the shoulder sleeves. The dress was one of her more conservative options, but had a neckline that was just low enough to drive Killian crazy for the night: perfect.

Once Mary Margaret had done Emma's makeup and left her hair in loose curls, Mary Margaret wished her friend well with a knowing wink before she exited the apartment.

At exactly seven o'clock, the time they'd agreed upon, Emma heard a knock on her door. Her heart skipped a beat as she walked over to answer. She brushed out a few imaginary wrinkles from her dress before taking a deep breath and pulling the door open.

Killian stood before her looking handsomer than ever in black slacks and a red dress shirt. His face lit up and his mouth dropped open at the sight of her. "You look incredible, lass," he complimented as he gazed at her, awestruck.

Emma's face reddened at his compliment before she countered. "You don't look too bad yourself." Then she noticed that his left hand was hidden behind his back. She nodded down towards his hand before looking back at him in question.

"Oh yes," he responded sheepishly. "These are for you," he mumbled as he nervously held out a bouquet of flowers.

Emma smiled and raised an eyebrow in response before taking the flowers from him. "Flowers on a first date, Jones?" she asked teasingly.

"Well, Swan, we've already been _furniture shopping_ together; we're practically married," he quipped.

Emma smiled down at the flowers he had given her – white gardenias – not a common choice, but they were unique, classy, uncomplicated, _much like Killian himself_.

This was the time when Emma Swan normally ran. A man gave her flowers, made marriage jokes, and looked at her as if she was the only woman on Earth.

All of Emma's instincts were telling her to slam the door in his face, climb down the fire escape, and catch the first bus out of Boston. But, as she leaned over to smell the beautiful bouquet and looked up to see his proud, smiling face, her heart squeezed tightly in her chest with excitement and anticipation and _something else_ she wasn't ready to admit just yet.

Emma went into her apartment to put the flowers in a vase before joining Killian in the hallway. She froze in place on their way out to his car as she was suddenly hit with the realization that Killian had carried the flowers in his _left_ hand. "Your cast is gone," Emma said in surprise.

"Aye, lass, but you can still buckle my seat belt for old times' sake if you wish," he assured with a sly wink.

Emma did not in fact buckle his seat belt once they were in his car, much to his _vocal _dismay. The car ride to the restaurant was interesting, to say the least. Killian learned that Emma was a backseat driver, and she learned that he had a great love for 80s power ballads. Dork.

"_Killian, please, no dancing while you're driving or this date is going to end tragically."_

Finally, after an eventful drive, they arrived at the restaurant of Killian's choice: a fancy Italian bistro downtown.

She tried not to show it _because she had no intention of boosting his already exorbitant ego_, but Emma had to admit, at least to herself, that she was impressed. Not only had he chosen one of the nicest restaurants in town, he was a complete gentleman the whole time, insisting on opening doors and even pulling out Emma's chair. She wasn't used to the old-fashioned manners he displayed, but she found herself completely enamored by them. They left her feeling _cherished_.

Emma was simultaneously amused and flattered by how hard he was clearly trying to impress her. To start with, he ordered them an expensive bottle of wine.

"So, tell me about your job as a bail bondsperson," Killian asked after the waiter had taken their orders and left them alone.

Emma shook her head before responding. "Nope, not until you tell me about _your_ job. I still don't know what you do," Emma responded resolutely as she took a sip from her glass. She sighed in contentment at the delicious taste. Point for Killian.

"Well, I'm a marine engineer. I work out of an office here in Boston, but I also spend a great deal of time at the port," he responded casually.

Emma's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Marine engineer?" she asked, wanting clarification.

"I design and develop equipment and engines for ships," he replied matter-of-factly before shaking his head and tacking on nervously, "I know it sounds boring."

"That doesn't sound boring at all!" Emma insisted smiling at the way Killian seemed to relax at her assurance.

"Do you get to sail in any of the boats or ships you design?" she asked eagerly. Emma hadn't gotten many opportunities to enjoy the sea when she grew up – hopping from one unstable foster home to another. Still, she'd always had an underlying love and fascination for the sea.

"Sometimes. I do own a boat that I helped design and build myself. I take that out sailing quite frequently during the warmer months," he answered.

Emma's face lit up at that. Killian continued eagerly when he saw her excitement. "Do you want to go sailing sometime?" he asked before catching himself and adding nervously, "if you want to go out with me again, I mean."

Emma's heart tightened in her chest as she saw him blush with embarrassment. Before she could respond, their waiter interrupted, carrying their bread and appetizers in tow.

Emma told Killian more about her job; he was quite impressed with her line of work and asked to hear stories about hunting down cons. Throughout the conversation, he complimented her on her bravery and her exciting job. Emma's face was a permanent shade of ruby red by the time they finally switched topics.

Once their meals had arrived, Emma finally worked up the courage to ask him about the breakup. He hadn't mentioned it to her, and she was extremely curious considering how recently Killian had gotten out of his relationship.

"Can I ask you a question?" Emma asked. "It may not be that appropriate for a first date," she added in warning.

Killian tilted his head in interest before responding. "Well, technically, this could be deemed our third date considering our past exploits."

Emma nodded in agreement before correcting him. "Actually, if you count our _so successful_ double-date, move-in adventure with David and Mary Margaret, this would be date four," she joked.

Killian laughed and simultaneously _grimaced _at the memory before agreeing. "Exactly, so ask anything you like, love."

Emma paused for a second, flustered by his use of 'love,' before she finally replied. "What happened with Milah?"

Killian frowned immediately and was quiet as he thought over her question.

"I'm sorry; I shouldn't have asked," Emma insisted anxiously.

"No, no, you have every right to know," Killian assured her gently as he reached across the table to take her hand in his. "Milah and I did not have a very healthy relationship. When we found each other two years ago, we were both running," he explained.

"Running from what?" Emma asked, already eager to hear more of his story.

"Milah was running from a toxic relationship and family obligations. And me, well, I was running from the loss of my brother. He had passed many years prior, but I still hadn't faced his death." Killian paused, seeming to search for the correct words before he finally continued.

"We loved each other, sure, but it was always an escape from something else, not a start to something new. Does that make sense?" he asked sincerely as he sought Emma's eyes.

Emma nodded in agreement because she understood _exactly_ what he'd meant. She'd been in relationships before, a few of them could even be classified as 'serious,' but none of them were new beginnings. They were always her way of trying to escape her troubled past.

Killian chuckled nervously before squeezing her hand tightly and returning it to his own to his lap. "You don't really want to hear all of this, Emma. Why don't I tell you more about Europe or Wendy? Something interesting."

The corners of Emma's mouth turned up into a grin because _of course_ Wendy was categorized as interesting.

"I want to know. I promise," she urged sincerely. "Why did you guys split up?"

Killian gave a forced, disappointed smile as he continued. "I woke up one morning, and I realized that I wanted more than just a fun relationship. I wanted a serious, meaningful one, and she didn't."

Emma looked down, fiddling with the napkin in her lap before speaking in a worried whisper. "I don't know if I do serious, meaningful relationships well, Killian. I honestly don't think I've ever been in one."

Killian nodded in understanding before he gently tapped her foot under the table causing her to look up and meet his sincere gaze. "I don't expect anything of you," he assured, "except a hardy first mate when I take you sailing, of course," he added gently.

They jumped back and forth between topics throughout the rest of their dinner.

Emma decided to return the favor and tell Killian about some of her past relationships, but they talked about lighter fare too, such as movies, music, and books. Killian shared her love for crime novels, which earned him another point in her book. He also ordered tiramisu for dessert, which garnered an automatic second date with Emma.

Emma moaned in pleasure as she brought a spoonful of the heavenly dessert to her mouth, which caused Killian's mouth to fall slightly ajar as he squirmed in his seat. Emma smiled contently as she went on eating her dessert. Nothing brought her more happiness than eating tiramisu and torturing Killian at the same time. Her moans of appreciation grew conveniently louder and more drawn out as he continued to fidget in his seat.

"Could you not do that, Swan?" he scolded through gritted teeth.

Emma gave him mocking smirk as she replied. "I'm rather enjoying myself, Killian."

* * *

Once they had arrived back to their apartment complex and at Emma's door, Killian leaned in to place an innocent peck against Emma's lips.

"Thanks for a lovely first, _proper_ date, Emma," he whispered against her lips before pulling away.

"Don't you want to test out that new bed of yours?" she asked in a seductive, husky voice.

He smiled wickedly in response. "You _know_ I do," he assured, "but I didn't want you to feel obli—"

"Just let me put my things away and freshen up," she interrupted as she opened the door and walked inside.

Killian followed her into her apartment, taking the opportunity to scope out the place. Emma returned from her bedroom just two minutes later to find Killian examining a pair of her red boxing gloves with an intrigued look on his face.

"What are you doing?" she asked accusingly, narrowing her eyes at him in suspicion.

Killian smirked at her in response. "You can learn a great deal about someone just by taking a stroll through their apartment," he explained. "You box?"

Emma was quiet for a minute, hesitant to open up to him, before she reluctantly replied. "Yes, I take boxing lessons. Considering my line of work, it's important that I know how to defend myself."

Killian nodded in agreement before he put them down and continued. "You have cinnamon out on the counter in your kitchen; that's unusual."

Emma laughed in disbelief before rolling her eyes and explaining. "I like cinnamon with my hot cocoa, okay?"

Again, Killian nodded as he made a mental note. "Interesting. Also, I must compliment you on the excellent selection of classic movies on your DVD shelf," he said as he nodded towards her living room.

Emma gaped at him in surprise. She had been gone for a mere two minutes, and he had studied the _entire_ apartment.

"I like old movies," she replied quietly, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable before him.

Killian walked forward, cupping her face in his hands and tilting his head down to meet her gaze. "I don't just want to sleep with you, Emma. I want to _know _you."

"Emma?" he added nervously when she didn't respond to him.

Emma stared at him in wonder, completely taken aback, because no man had ever wanted to _know_ her before. Without even allowing herself to acknowledge the ebbing fear in the back of her mind, she gave in to her heart and simply replied, "Your apartment. Now."

* * *

They undressed in a blur, frantic tugging and pulling against clothes that left Emma's dress, Killian's shirt, and the rest of their garments scattered across his apartment. They were both finally bare by the time they reached Killian's bedroom. He laid her down on the bed with an uncanny combination of passion and care that made Emma's heart thump loudly in her chest.

Killian crawled on top of her quickly, tracing every inch of her skin in frantic desperation as though he was trying to map out her body. Killian kissed and nipped at her skin, thoroughly _worshipping _her.

Emma never felt more appreciated than now as he paused to look deeply into her eyes and smiled warmly before leaning down to press soft, affectionate kisses against her neck. Chills rushed through her body as Killian kissed a trail down her neck, across her breasts, and on to her navel, while she ran her fingers through his soft, messy hair, scratching her nails lightly across his scalp.

Emma was lost in thought until she gasped in surprise when he bit down gently on her hip and scraped his teeth across the light mark. "Stop it," he ordered, when she looked down to stare at him in confusion.

"Stop what?" she asked breathily.

He placed a gentle kiss against the mark before answering. "Overanalyzing. Thinking. Being nervous. Stop it."

Emma shook her head in disagreement. "I'm not—"

"Yes you are," he insisted before crawling up to press his forehead against hers. "Just stop," he ordered, placing a gentle kiss against her forehead. "Everything is okay, Emma," he said sincerely as he stared into her eyes.

Emma calmed at his words, but immediately felt her stomach turn and tighten with desire. She bucked her hips up against his, silently urging him on.

"Oh come on, lass, I wanted to take my time," Killian whined as he went back to kissing her neck.

"Next time. I need you, _now_," Emma commanded as she bucked her hips again.

He perked up at her words, sending her a devilish grin. "_Next time?_"

"Shut up," she retorted as she spread her legs wide, looking up at him wantonly, urging him with her gaze to _take_ her.

He grazed his left hand along her skin, gliding it down her torso with a feather-light touch that made her skin erupt in goose bumps. He slowed down once he found her core and gingerly moved his hand to her heat, raising his eyebrows in surprise when he found her already wet and wanting. He opened his mouth to comment, _probably on his superb skill_, but Emma glared at him warningly, so he quickly decided to busy himself tormenting her instead.

He pressed open-mouthed kisses against her breasts before taking one of her aching buds into his mouth and sucking gently while his hand tweaked the other.

In no time, Killian had Emma writhing under his touch, her gasps and moans of pleasure only fueling his ego and his own pleasure.

"Killian, please. _Please_." She hated the way she begged, but she _needed_ him inside her _now_.

"So demanding," he teased with the tut of his tongue before sitting up to brush the hair out of her face and run his hand tenderly along her cheek.

He reached a testing hand to her sex and whimpered in desperation when he found her positively _dripping_ for him. "Swan," he moaned as he finally leaned his body against hers and aligned himself with her center.

Emma gasped at the feel of his cock brushing against her tight and aching core. Killian looked down to where they were about to meet and then back up to her, staring into her eyes, silently asking permission. Emma bit her lip softly and nodded slowly to him. Killian balanced himself on his right forearm as he brought his left hand up to lace in between her fingers.

He gently nudged forward, never breaking eye contact with Emma as he slowly, _torturously slowly_, pushed his cock inside her body. They gasped in unison when finally he was fully seated inside her.

She was slightly sore at the intrusion, especially considering it had been a while, but he stretched her so deliciously. She felt delightfully light-headed as her walls clenched down on his member.

"Move," she begged, which seemed to break him from his trance as he slowly began thrusting in and out of her. Her head spun with the mounting pleasure growing in her belly. He felt absolutely amazing as he glided in and out of her.

In an embarrassingly short amount of time, Killian had Emma on the brink. Her back began to arch, and her nails raked down his back as she felt her impending climax approach. "I'm almost there, Killian. I'm so close," she murmured softly in his ear. Judging by his loud breathing and his rapid, sloppy movements, he was too.

Determined to send her over the edge first, Killian pulled his left hand out of hers and reached down to where they were joined. He found her aching clit easily and pressed light, gentle circles against it until he heard her cry out in ecstasy. He bit his lip in concentration as he continued to draw out her orgasm, egged on by her soft and pleasured cries of _Killian, Killian, Killian. _

Emma finally fell back against the bed, lifeless as she came down from her earth-shattering orgasm. She looked up to lock eyes with Killian, rutting her hips back and forth to bring him his own pleasure. He followed her over the edge almost immediately, a shout and a breathy _Swan_ escaping his lips as he fell onto his forearms, careful to keep his full weight from crushing her.

They both lay in silence, catching their breath, before Killian seemed to regain his senses. He pressed a tender kiss against Emma's nose and smiled down affectionately at her.

Emma looked up at him through heavy lids, still swimming from her climax as she brushed away a few sweaty locks of hair from his forehead. "I don't think this bed is quite broken in yet, Killian," she breathed huskily.

Killian groaned in pleasure as he shook his head in disbelief. "Bloody hell. You're perfect."

They broke the bed in _three more times_ before they finally deemed it properly christened.

* * *

Emma awoke the next morning feeling as though she was sleeping on a cloud as she slowly opened her eyes and made no effort to move. She reached her hand out across the bed, but shot her eyes open in panic when she found Killian's side _empty_.

She sat up in bed panicked because the bed was _cold_.

He was _gone_.

He'd lied the night before. He said _everything was ok_, and he held her like he had cared for her, but he didn't – _of course he didn't_.

She found herself breathing heavily, eyes burning with impending tears before the smell of food wafted into the room.

She froze in surprise, sniffing harder to catch the scent. Before she could rise from the bed to see what it was, she heard a muffled voice from the living room.

"I made pancakes for Emma and lettuce for you, Wendy, darling. Both my girls are set."

Emma was quiet as she processed what she had just heard. After a minute, she laughed in relief, wiping away a stray tear from her eye as she shook her head in disbelief of the dork that she was now _dating_.

She was screwed. She was so incredibly screwed, but it was okay.

_Everything was okay._

* * *

**I hope you all enjoyed this latest installment. I'm keen to hear your thoughts and opinions!**


	4. Chapter 4

_Killian, I can't go out tonight. I'm sick._

Emma pressed send on her phone then resumed her position on the couch — lying helplessly, head propped up by three pillows with a halo of used tissues surrounding her. Just as she took a sip of hot cocoa to soothe her sore throat, she heard a loud knocking at the door.

She wrapped herself in a blanket and trudged along to open the door, knowing exactly who would be awaiting her on the other side.

"Killian—and _Wendy_?" Emma said in surprise as she raised a questioning and unimpressed eyebrow towards him.

"We're here to take care of you," Killian explained cheerily.

Emma glared at him defiantly through her puffy and reddened eyes, but she simply didn't have the energy to argue with the bonehead – _her bonehead_ – so she swung open the door and headed back to collapse on the couch.

"Have you eaten today?" he asked as he held the back of his hand to her forehead, finding that she did indeed have a fever.

Emma shook her head and closed her eyes to sleep, but was immediately startled by the feeling of weight dropping on her stomach. She hesitantly opened her eyes to see Wendy staring back at her.

"Killian!" she whined in annoyance. Really, he was _not_ helping at all. He should have stayed home.

"Lass, you need something on your stomach. I'll only be a minute. Wendy is a great companion, and I'm sure you'll feel better if you tell her of some of your woes," he replied as he walked towards her kitchen.

Emma heard the sound of cabinet doors opening and closing followed by the rattling of dishes and pans. She groaned in annoyance before leaning down to look at Wendy.

"Well, to start with, my boyfriend is a doofus," she quipped.

"_I can hear you!"_ came Killian's muffled and scolding voice from the kitchen.

Emma paused for a moment, a small smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. "But he means well," she begrudgingly admitted before changing her tone entirely. "Other than that, my stomach is in knots, my nose is stuffed up, my eyes are burning, my throat is sore, and I'm talking to a turtle," she groaned in defeat, absolutely miserable.

Killian returned a few minutes later, carrying a plate in his hands and smiling brightly towards her. "I bet you feel better now that you've talked to Wendy. You'll feel even better after you eat these," he chimed as he put the plate into her weak hands and took Wendy back.

"Pancakes?" Emma asked as she stared at the plate suspiciously.

"Aye," he nodded.

"Killian, we've been dating for over two months now, and all I've ever seen you make are pancakes…_can_ you make anything else?" she asked incredulously. _Really, he was supposed to be a 'mature, professional adult.'_

Killian shrugged off her question and replied back matter-of-factly. "Well, no, but pancakes have served me well all these years."

Emma's mouth dropped open in shock as she gawked back at him. "Oh my god. When I'm better, I'm teaching you to cook," she responded resolutely before digging into the pancakes, which, she had to admit, were quite good.

He doted on her for the next few days as she continued to recover. Emma ate pancakes night and day, listened to him tell her stories about Europe, sailing, and whatever else he thought of. He even cleaned her apartment, which wasn't necessary, but was still quite appreciated. Then, to Emma's complete amusement, she woke up from a nap to catch him _alphabetizing_ her DVD collection. Dork.

Despite being ill, Emma had to admit it felt nice to have someone care for her when she was sick. It was an experience she'd never had growing up in the foster system. When he looked at her with worry after a coughing spell or went to the store to buy more tissues and Ginger Ale, Emma couldn't help but revel in the incredible feeling of being _loved_. Not that she let herself dwell on that thought for long because it was scary and overwhelming and _completely ridiculous_.

No matter how good it felt to let Killian care for her when she was sick, Emma was not entertaining any thoughts of furthering their relationship. Killian did not care deeply for her. _They were just having fun_, she reassured herself as she fluffed her mountain of pillows and attempted to get some more sleep.

* * *

After she had been well for about a week, Emma decided it was finally time to teach Killian Jones how to cook something besides pancakes. She was already tired of them after he'd force-fed her pancake after pancake while she was sick – she couldn't fathom how he'd eaten so many over the years.

As soon as she returned home from the gym and the grocery store, Emma sent Killian a text message at work:

_Today's the day you learn to cook, Jones. My apartment, 6pm. Come hungry._

He replied back almost immediately, like he always did, which made Emma question how much work he ever got done.

_Oh, I'll be absolutely ravenous, Swan. Don't you worry._

Emma rolled her eyes. Another day as Killian's girlfriend – another innuendo. That was Emma's cue to change the subject to one that would certainly distract him:

_Leave Wendy at your place._

Emma thrummed her fingers on her kitchen counter as she put away the groceries and awaited his reply. She was serious about him leaving Wendy at home – teaching him to cook was going to be hard enough without having to keep an eye on a turtle – but she also got great pleasure out of teasing him.

His reply did not fail to disappoint:

_She nursed you back to health, listened to your troubles, watched over you as you regained your strength, and this is how you treat her? Wendy will not be pleased to hear this._

Emma laughed until her sides ached when she read his message. Stupid, idiot, dork.

She texted him back a few minutes later after she noticed she'd forgotten one item from her grocery list.

_Pick up vanilla frosting after work – we're making cupcakes for dessert._

Again, Killian wasted no time replying. Emma heard the faint sound of her phone buzzing just a few minutes after she'd sent her last text.

_Sure, that's what you want the frosting for. "Cupcakes" ;) _

There it was again, that taunting winky face. Emma put her phone away, deciding not to even reply back. He could, _and happily would_, go on all day.

Right at 6pm, _he always arrived on time_, Emma heard what she had come to know as 'Killian's knock' on her door.

She opened the door to find Killian standing before her with a small grin on his face. He'd come bearing gifts, which made Emma's heart beat faster and her cheeks redden. In one hand, he carried the vanilla frosting she'd requested, in the other, he held a bouquet of sunflowers.

"More flowers?" she asked with a bright smile. Ever since their first date, Killian enjoyed surprising Emma with flowers every now and then. Emma had never been the type of woman to admire or appreciate flowers before, but whenever he showed up at her doorstep with a bouquet in hand she couldn't help but smile and blush because they made her feel completely and wholeheartedly cherished.

Killian pulled the flowers away from her quickly, giving her a teasing look before replying. "Actually, these are for Wendy to console her after your wicked betrayal."

Emma pursed her lips and placed her hands on her hips in disapproval. Really, he could be so dramatic and _silly_ at times.

"I jest, love," he continued, before leaning in to give her a quick peck and then placing the flowers in her waiting hands.

Once Emma had the flowers placed in a vase and on her windowsill, she turned towards Killian. "Alright, Killian, time to cook," she proclaimed as she dug out her supplies and organized them across the counter.

"Can't we do something more _pleasurable_, Swan?" he asked with a flick of his tongue as he grabbed her from behind and wrapped his arms around her, nibbling on her neck.

Emma weakly swatted at his arm, attempting to scold him while he continued to kiss her neck. "Stop that! You're a grown man, and all you can cook are pancakes. We need to fix that."

Killian groaned in defeat before stepping beside her and attempting to pay attention as she demonstrated how to properly prepare a simple chicken dinner. He behaved himself, for the most part, following along with her instructions. Though, Emma had the distinct feeling that he was simply nodding along, so they could eat faster.

Dinner turned out _okay,_ though Emma was certain that at least a few more lessons were required.

"Alright, now that dinner is over, we're making dessert," Emma chimed happily after they'd cleared the table and returned to the kitchen.

"Oh, I know exactly what I want for dessert," Killian lilted smoothly as he shot Emma his devious eyebrow waggle.

Emma rolled her eyes and shook her head in exasperation. "_Maybe_ later, _if_ you're good," she insisted sternly.

"Oh, I'm _always_ good, Swan," he fired back immediately as he swiped his tongue across his bottom lip.

"Killian!" she scolded.

"Okay, okay," he chuckled as he held his hands up in surrender.

Emma smirked back before pulling together some dishes and another pan and turning her attention towards Killian. "Pay attention because we're making your favorite: _pumpkin_ cupcakes."

Killian's face genuinely lit up at her words as he gave her his full and undivided attention.

Unfortunately for Emma, his patience, and self-control, ran out once the cupcakes had finished baking and it came time to frost them. All Killian wanted to do was scoop frosting onto his finger and eat it straight from the container.

"Killian, if you eat that frosting again, I swear to God I'll yank your tongue out," she warned, narrowing her eyes at him.

Killian tut his tongue in defiance before replying, "Now Swan, we both know full-well that you want this tongue intact." He gave her a sassy smirk before slowly dipping his finger into the container again and scooping out more frosting.

_Bastard. Now he was going to get it._

Emma gave him her sexiest and most deadly smirk before reaching out to gently wrap her hand around his wrist and pull his frosting-covered finger towards her. She let out a stream of hot, steamy breath on his finger before slowly pulling it into her mouth.

"What are you doing?" he asked nervously as Emma began to swivel her tongue across his finger tip. She ignored his question, instead sucking the frosting off of his finger and teasing the side gently with her teeth.

Killian gulped loudly, his mouth hung ajar as his breathing became more rapid. "Uh…Emma, you need to stop that."

"Stop, what?" she asked innocently, batting her eyelashes at him as she licked a stripe up and down the sides of his finger.

Emma looked down to catch Killian clench his fists at his side as he gritted his teeth together. She continued her assault on his finger for just a few seconds longer, until she was sure she had him on edge. Then, without warning, she released his finger, spun around, and returned to the task of frosting the cupcakes without giving him a second look.

"After this, let's watch _Lord of the Rings_ – I haven't seen it before," she suggested before she added with a knowing, wicked note in her voice. "I've heard it's quite _long_."

From the corner of her eye, Emma saw Killian shake his head in defeat and quietly resume frosting the cupcakes, _properly_ this time. She smiled to herself proudly because he may be Mr. Innuendo, but she knew exactly how to tantalize and torment and _drop_ him at a moment's notice. He won a few battles here and there, but Emma _always _won the war.

Once they had finally gotten to the couch, _Lord of the Rings_ playing as they quietly munched on their cupcakes, Killian wrapped his arm around Emma and pulled her closer to him so he could place a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Thank you for teaching me to cook earlier, love," he whispered as he took another bite of his tasty cupcake.

Emma gave a wry chuckle in response. "We have a _long_ way to go. You barely made cupcakes."

"Well, I appreciate it all the same," he insisted, pulling her closer to him as she laid her head on his chest.

Emma smiled as she turned her attention from the movie to him. "We're still having more lessons because I'm not doing all the cooking in this relationship forever."

Emma's words died in her mouth as she realized what she'd said. She wanted Killian to learn how to cook, so he could help her in the future. She imagined herself being with him _indefinitely_, maybe even living with him someday. But that was ridiculous. Emma Swan did _not _do serious relationships.

_They were just having fun._

* * *

A few days after their _eventful_ cooking lesson, Emma found herself swamped with work. She threw open the door to her apartment practically running out into the hall when she suddenly collided with someone. She nearly fell onto the floor, but a pair of strong, _familiar_ arms pulled her towards him.

_Killian._

"What are you doing here?" she asked in surprise as she wiggled out of his grasp.

"Um, we were going to go out tonight. Remember?" Killian replied, his voice laced with hesitation and disappointment.

Emma let out a sharp breath and reached out to take his hand in hers. "Killian, I'm so sorry. I just got a call – a con skipped bail, so I need to go track him down before he gets too far—"

"The armed robber?" Killian blurted out before he could stop himself.

Emma's groaned in defeat. She had _really_ been hoping Killian wouldn't ask _which_ con. Her silence answered his question before she could reply.

"He's incredibly dangerous, Emma," Killian insisted. His voice was full of worry.

Emma smiled back at him, touched by his concern before she replied coolly. "I've been taking care of myself for a long time, Killian. I'll be fine."

Killian was quiet for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed as he searched for the proper words. "You don't have to take care of yourself anymore. That's what being in a relationship means."

Emma let go of his hand and glared back at him, no longer touched, but annoyed.

She was a grown adult who had taken care of herself just fine before he came along. "Killian, I appreciate what you're saying, but I'm not a child. I don't need you telling me what I can and cannot do," Emma insisted sternly.

Killian shook his head in frustration. "Letting someone care for you doesn't make you any less of an adult, Emma," he explained in frustration. _Why was she so bloody stubborn all the time? Why couldn't she just let him in?_

Emma stood frozen as she stared back at him in fear. Every word that came out of his mouth scared the hell out of her. She looked at him sadly and fidgeted with her hands at her side. "Killian, I– I have to go," she said quietly before attempting to walk past him and leave.

Killian grabbed her by the arm, tugging her gently toward him so she wouldn't leave just yet. _Not like this._ "Please don't go," he said in defeat. "What if something happens?" he tacked on in a hushed whisper.

Any anger or frustration Emma had quickly faded upon hearing the vulnerability in his voice. "I'll be fine," Emma insisted smiling back at him gently. His hold on her arm tightened as he stared at her with worry, care, and maybe _something else_ in his eyes that Emma just wasn't ready to acknowledge.

Emma gazed at him sympathetically before leaning in to give him a reassuring hug. "You don't have to worry about me."

Killian sighed before giving her a forced nod. "Well, it's too late for that now." He leaned in to kiss her goodbye, but this kiss was different than his others. There was a sense of desperation, of intensity.

"I'll make it up to you later. _Everything is going to be okay_," Emma promised before squeezing his hand gently and taking off towards the stairs. "Don't wait up," she called back as she vanished from his sight.

By the time she returned to the apartment, the con having been found and taken swiftly to jail, it was already well past five o'clock in the morning. Emma was exhausted, her eyes drooping shut as she slowly forced herself up the stairs to her apartment. When she reached the top of the staircase and turned onto her hall, she froze in place, shocked by what she saw.

Killian was fast asleep, lying against her door – _he'd waited up all night to make sure she got home._

Emma's heart tightened as she stared down at his sleeping form – all hint of worry gone from his face as he dozed peacefully. Part of her was scared by his fierce concern and devotion. There had never been anyone in Emma's life who had truly cared for her – who'd stayed up all night just to see that she got home safely.

She wondered if this was what love looked like, but decided it was far too late – _or too early – _to entertain such thoughts.

She sat down beside him, resting her head against his shoulder and decided to finally give him a key to her apartment the next day.

_Maybe they weren't _just _having fun._

* * *

**Thank you all for the continued support and encouragement with this story! I appreciate every favorite, follow, and review more than you know. I hope this latest chapter meets your approval. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought!**


	5. Chapter 5

After a month, Emma found herself reexamining her decision to give Killian a key to her apartment. That choice had led to a new game between them, which Killian liked to call _'Where's Wendy?'_ Emma had been permanently scarred when she found the turtle crawling around in her bathtub one day after work.

Emma turned the key in her apartment and slowly opened the door, peeking in to see if she saw Wendy there awaiting her return. Instead, she found Killian waiting for her, _alone_ for a change.

"Killian, I'm really sorry, but I can't stick around. I'm just here to change before I meet Mary Margaret out for coffee," Emma said in disappointment. Both their hectic schedules had kept them apart all week.

Killian jumped up from his place on her couch and enveloped her in a tight hug. He placed a tender kiss against her forehead and smiled brightly at her.

"I'm actually off to David's house for a bit, but I'm all yours this weekend," he promised with a wink.

"You better be; we're having another cooking lesson," Emma teased, before adding when she saw Killian's face drop, "and perhaps some other _activities_."

* * *

"How are things going with Killian?" Mary Margaret asked as she took a sip from her coffee cup.

"They're great. We're going on four months now," Emma responded before truly realizing that they had been seeing each other for quite a while. The time seemed to rush past her in a whirlwind of fun, laughter, and _ease_.

Mary Margaret perked up at her friend's confession. "Aw, I'm so happy for you, Emma! That's a long time for you; it seems like it's getting pretty serious," she finished as she quirked an eyebrow towards Emma, gauging her reaction.

Emma gave her a small shrug before looking down at her own cup of hot cocoa. "I don't know. We're having fun right now," she lied, because Emma knew they weren't just having fun. She knew how deeply she cared for Killian, but she had just recently come to terms with it herself. She simply wasn't ready to hash it out with Mary Margaret yet.

"Okay," Mary Margaret said knowingly.

Emma shook her head before replying, eager to move the conversation in another direction. "And what about you?" Emma asked accusingly. "You've been chirpier than usual lately. Tell me about _him_."

Mary Margaret's eyes widened and her mouth fell open slightly in surprise. "What? Why do you just _assume _there's someone?" Mary Margaret asked in mock offense.

"I know you," Emma responded confidently as she took a long sip of her cocoa.

Mary Margaret pursed her lips in defeat and gave Emma a small smile in return. "Well, his name is David."

The name went right over Emma's head at first, but then she froze when something clicked. _David?_ "David. Wait, David?_ Killian's David?_" she blurted out in disbelief. Those two had been at each other's throats. Emma had never seen her friend so flustered before.

"Yes, _that_ David. We ran into each other last month and just hit it off. He's really not the jerk I thought he was before," Mary Margaret admitted casually. Far too casually for Emma's taste, considering Mary Margaret _hated_ David not long ago.

"You invited me out to tell me about him, didn't you? That's why Killian is over at David's?" Emma asked as she began to put the pieces together.

"Guilty. We also wanted to invite you guys over to David's for dinner. We could have a lot of fun!" Mary Margaret chirped excitedly.

Emma raised a disbelieving eyebrow in her friend's direction. Seriously, they went from arch enemies to cute, party-hosting couple in a month. "Our last double date didn't go so well," Emma teased.

Mary Margaret grabbed Emma's hand firmly as she continued. "This will be better. I'll bring some board games; you bring the wine. It'll be great! I promise."

* * *

Mary Margaret wasn't kidding about those board games, so Emma made sure to bring _three_ bottles of wine. After dinner, Emma was forced into playing Pictionary, despite her very loud objections. Great.

"What on Earth is that, Killian? Aren't you an engineer? Shouldn't you be able to draw?" she asked accusingly from her place on the couch. She tilted her head to the side, trying to make sense of the object he was currently drawing on an oversized notepad.

"Like your pacifier was obvious," he shot back in defense as he stopped scribbling on the paper in front of him and turned around to glare at Emma.

Emma glared right back in offence. She had been quite proud of that drawing. "It was _obviously_ not Saturn!" she sneered, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance.

"You used to be a lot better at this game, Killian." David observed thoughtfully from his spot on the loveseat next to Mary Margaret.

"_I_ wasn't the one who was better," Killian gritted back as he continued to draw.

Emma frowned when she realized _who _he meant.

She shook her head and went back to guessing. "It's a – _is it a turtle_?" Emma asked incredulously.

"Aye, there you go, lass. You should be able to recognize our daughter," Killian chimed happily as he put down his marker and gave her his signature toothy grin.

Emma blushed as she rolled her eyes and finished off her glass of wine. "I'm getting more wine. Killian, why don't you come and give me a hand?" she asked as she nodded towards the kitchen.

"What is it?" he asked with concern when they were finally out of earshot from Mary Margaret and David.

Emma shrugged her shoulders in response. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you've obviously _summoned_ me to the kitchen to chat," he insisted before tacking on hastily, "I apologize for saying your pacifier looked like a planet."

A small smile pulled at her lips, because he was such a sweet idiot at times. "That's not it," she began cautiously. "I'm curious about what David said," she continued as she nervously ran her hands along the kitchen countertop.

Killian bit his lip in confusion as he tried to recall what exactly David had been saying that evening. "I'm not following, Swan," he confessed after he failed to come up with any idea.

"Was Milah good at Pictionary?" Emma inquired quietly, not meeting Killian's gaze as she did.

Killian was silent for a moment as he attempted to read her expressions. "Well, yes. She's an illustrator for a publishing company," he answered matter-of-factly.

"Wow. That's impressive," Emma responded as she nodded her head in understanding.

"Don't do that," he scolded back.

Emma finally turned to look at him before responding. "Do what?"

Killian set his wine glass down and wrapped his arms around Emma, placing a fierce kiss against her lips. After he pulled away, and took a second to catch his breath, he looked deeply into her eyes and smiled genuinely. "Don't feel the need to compare yourself to Milah. Who bloody cares if she was a better artist than you are? I am _much_ happier with you. That's all that matters," he insisted as he cupped her face and ran his thumb over the apple of her cheek.

Emma smiled back at him before swaying on her feet. "I'm sorry."

Killian shrugged off her apology. "You're an insecure mess. I'm far too attached to my turtle. We all have our issues, love," he replied confidently.

They both laughed before Emma sobered herself and replied. "Well, there's something else you should know about me, Jones: I'm a competitive person. Now, let's pick a board game where we can take down those two."

Killian smiled wickedly at her and gave her a confident nod. "Monopoly. Dave's way too trusting; he'll accept any trade you offer."

Emma ran her tongue along her teeth as she gave him a cunning look. "Mary Margaret is the _exact _same way!"

Killian let out a devious laugh as he poked his head around to corner to spy on the innocent lovebirds. "We'll own the board in fifteen turns."

It only took them ten.

* * *

Emma had never seen Killian act so excited before— _and this was the guy who talked to his turtle._ Finally, it was warm enough for the two of them to go out sailing. Killian had been over the moon all week, ever since Emma agreed to go out on the boat that weekend.

Unfortunately for Emma, she didn't realize that sailing meant getting up early – _way too early_ for a Saturday.

"Up you get, lass. Sailors rise with the sun," Killian whispered happily in her ear as he ran his hand through her golden locks as she slowly began to rise from her slumber.

"Killian, seriously, it's Saturday. Let me sleep," Emma groaned, slurring her words in her exhausted state.

He practically bounced on the bed in anticipation as he started to lightly shake her side. "Please, Emma. You can sleep tonight. I won't keep you up all night, _no matter how much you beg me_," he chimed confidently.

Emma rolled her eyes, partially wanting to continue sleeping just to spite the smug bastard. Then again, she knew how much sailing meant to him, so she forced herself out of bed and into her seafaring clothes.

They were at the docks within the hour, after a light breakfast and a short drive. Killian beamed with pride as he showed Emma his boat—the one he'd designed himself.

"What's her name? Please tell me it's not Wendy," Emma joked as they approached the gorgeous vessel.

Killian feigned a disapproving look as he responded. "Don't be absurd. Her name is _Wendy's Boat_."

Emma's mouth dropped in surprise, but Killian continued before she could scold him. "I'm kidding. She's simply called _Jewel_, actually."

Emma's shoulders fell in relief before she approached the boat and ran her hand across the smooth, off-white-colored hull.

"Is there a story behind that name?" Emma asked once they were both aboard and Killian steered them away from the dock.

Killian nodded as he repositioned the mast and took them further away from the coast. "Aye, growing up, my brother took me sailing quite frequently. He always told me that a good ship was as valuable as a jewel—that a good sailor always treated her as such."

Emma smiled brightly at that. "She's a lovely boat."

Emma marveled at the view of Boston from her place on the sailboat, completely awestruck at seeing her sprawling home look so tiny from the distance. Killian, though, was used to the sight, as he sailed these waters quite frequently. He was far more taken with the childlike look of wonder in Emma's eyes.

Emma excitedly rattled off a slew of sailing-related questions for Killian to answer. He had never seen her so _giddy _before, and he absolutely loved it. He vowed to take her sailing as often as possible.

Once they were further into their sailing trip, Emma's mind wandered back to the boat's name and Killian's comments from before. "You don't talk about your brother, Liam, very often," she mentioned hesitantly.

"Aye, I don't," Killian responded, not taking his eyes off the horizon.

"Can you tell me about him?" Emma asked nervously. She hated to broach what was certainly a painful topic, but she wanted to know more about Liam, more about Killian.

Killian was quiet for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. Emma watched intently as he took a deep breath and began. "He was— he was brilliant. He worked, struggled, and sacrificed so much to take care of me— and at such a young age. Looking back on it now, I've no clue how he managed to watch after me all those years, but he did. He taught me to sail and taught me to be how to be a good man. He made sure I attended a top university. I owe everything to him."

"I'm really sorry. I know this is hard," Emma responded in a hushed voice as she stepped forward to take his hand in hers.

"It's doesn't have to be," Killian replied with a forced smile. "He was fun, you know. He loved to play pranks. Bloody hell, he nearly got us arrested a few times with his antics," he said with a chuckle and a lighter note in his voice.

"Really?" Emma asked, now intrigued. That was _definitely _a story she wanted to hear.

Killian smiled at her, genuinely this time. Surprisingly, it actually felt quite nice sharing part of his past with Emma. "Aye, but those are stories for another day. Despite my mother's passing and my father's abandonment, I had a lovely childhood. We struggled, but Liam always took care of me, and he always kept me happy," Killian replied nostalgically.

"I wish I had met him." Emma meant that sincerely. She would have loved nothing more than to meet Killian's older brother and personal hero. He didn't talk to her about Liam often, but when he did, Emma could hear the love and admiration in his voice.

Killian wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss against her soft hair. "He would have loved you," he answered confidently. Truly, if his brother could have met the feisty woman who finally put his _'little brother'_ in place, Liam would have lauded her.

"What about yours, love? How was your childhood?" he asked nervously. Killian knew Emma grew up in foster care and already suspected the answer, but Emma had never come out and told him about her experience.

"I didn't have a very good childhood. I got pushed around from one foster home to another. Never finding my place, my anchor," she said sadly, finally comfortable enough to open up to him.

Killian squeezed her tighter to himself, resting his cheek against her head. "I'm sorry, Emma."

"But, I met Mary Margaret when I was twenty, and that changed everything," Emma explained confidently, the image of a much younger and even peppier Mary Margaret flashing before her eyes. "She was in college at the time, and she always insisted that I go home with her during breaks and holidays. The Blanchards ended up adopting me, in a way," Emma finished, much calmer now.

"Better late than never," he replied with a tight grin as he let Emma go and returned to steering the boat.

"Exactly," she began before tacking on musingly, "I always wanted to sail when I was a kid."

Killian perked up at that. "Did you?" he asked with a hint of excitement in his voice.

"Yes. _Shockingly_, none of my foster parents were eager to pay for sailing lessons," Emma grumbled, her resentment never quite fading away.

"Well. You've been giving me cooking lessons. I believe you've earned some sailing lessons. Come here," he said as he gently pulled her by the arm to where he was standing. "This is the helm. Why don't you try steering?"

"Are you sure?" Emma responded hesitantly. She had never steered a boat before. She didn't want to damage his _Jewel_.

Killian laughed when he saw the nervousness in her eyes. "Really, you'd have to make a concerted effort to run us into anything from all the way out here."

He helped her steer, taught her to tie a few knots—which Emma did not find fun, _at all_. He also taught her various directions, terms, and techniques.

By the end of their sailing adventure, Emma was absolutely exhausted, but still completely elated by the day's events. Emma and Killian disembarked the boat and strolled along the dock happily, hand in hand.

"Next time we go sailing, I'll take us out at night, so we can see the stars from the boat. It's an absolutely magical sight," he said resolutely, already planning out their next sailing adventures in his head.

"I can't wait!" Emma chirped, far perkier than her normal self. "Thank you for this, Killian," she said sincerely as she wrapped her arms around him and placed a loving kiss against his lips.

Killian gently darted his tongue forward and pressed it against her lips, asking entry. She granted it, opening her mouth and running her hands through his thick hair. Emma moaned slightly into their kiss before Killian pulled away, realizing that they were still standing on the dock, on display for all other denizens of Boston to see.

"Perhaps we should consider taking this elsewhere, Swan. I do come by the docks for work on occasion," he quipped as he still hovered just a few inches from her face.

Emma gave him a teasing smirk before she looked over her shoulders dramatically and turned back toward him. "Don't want your coworkers to catch you shoving your tongue down your girlfriend's throat?"

"I don't think that would make the impression I'm aiming for, honestly," he jibbed back.

They continued their banter all the way down the dock, into the car, _and to their apartment complex_.

* * *

Emma's phone buzzed, alerting her of a new text message just as she finished ordering their pizza and took a seat in one of Killian's heavenly recliners. "Mary Margaret and David want to get together again for another double date. They already vetoed Monopoly," Emma said in amusement as she read her message aloud.

"Be my date to their wedding, Swan?" Killian quipped as he flipped through their Netflix queue.

Emma rolled her eyes in disbelief. "I think we have a little time before that."

Killian put down the remote and turned to face her waving his hand in insistence. "Have you _seen_ those two recently?"

"Fair point," she admitted before continuing "I ordered pizza. It should be here soon. You can pick out the movie tonight."

"Not _Lord of the Rings_ again," Killian replied, a hint of pain in his voice. "I can't wait that long."

Emma gaped at him and shook in her in amusement. "Well that's quite presumptuous of you," she scolded before turning her attention back to the TV. "In fact I think I have a headache," she jabbed, knowing exactly how to torture him.

"Wendy, tell your mother to stop being so impossible," Killian chimed as he looked over to Wendy, who was currently sleeping in her cage.

"Don't be ridiculous. She's on my side," Emma rebutted. She and Wendy had bonded considerably over the past months. Besides, Emma fed her banana pieces for dessert, so she was obviously the favorite parent.

The sound of knocking on the door pulled them from their thoughts. "I'll get it," Emma said as she forced herself out of the recliner and headed towards the door. That pizza had arrived _really_ fast.

Emma pulled open the door only to be faced with a tall woman with brown, curly hair and big, bright eyes. Emma's face fell in shock and disappointment because _she knew who it was_, but before she could ask, Killian's voice rang nervously from behind her.

"_Milah?_"

* * *

**As always, I am forever grateful for all the encouragement I have received with this story. I truly believe I have the kindest readers and followers on the site. What did you all think of this latest chapter? Your reviews always brighten my day!**


	6. Chapter 6

Emma paced back and forth through her apartment, waiting for him to show up. No matter what happened with Milah, she knew what she had to do. Thankfully, Killian didn't make her wait long.

His knock caused Emma to halt mid-step in her living room. She took a deep breath and steadied her shaky hands. _She had to do this. It was her only choice. This would be best for both of them._

Emma slowly approached the door and pulled it back to see a frantic looking Killian standing in the frame.

"Emma, love, I'm so sorry about that," he blurted as he carefully stepped closer to her.

Emma held her hand up to keep him back before crossing her arms across her chest and giving him an apologetic look. "Killian, we can't do this anymore," she said in a pained whisper.

His face fell when he saw that she was serious, and the look of absolute devastation that he gave in response nearly broke Emma's heart, but not her conviction.

"Emma, don't—" he began before she interrupted.

"This has gone too far, Killian," Emma insisted, her bottom lip quivering with the threat of impending tears. She blinked her eyes rapidly, absolutely refusing to get upset.

Killian reached forward placing his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to meet his gaze. "I sent Milah away. I don't love her, Emma. I want to be with you," he insisted, silently begging her to believe him.

Emma took a deep breath as she brushed his hands off her shoulders. "Don't you see. We're not right for each other. Remember our first date? You told me that you ended your relationship with Milah because you were looking for something serious."

Killian jumped in before Emma could continue, seeing exactly where she was headed. "No, that's not why—"

"Yes it is," Emma rebutted. She wasn't going to let him change his story now. "You were tired of 'just having fun.' You wanted more. You _deserve_ more, Killian, and I can't give it to you," her voice cracked as she admitted her shortcomings. She wasn't what he needed; he could find someone so much better.

Killian shook his head firmly. Biting his lip and shaking his head as his eyes reddened. "I _thought_ I broke up with Milah because I wanted more, but I've come to realize that the whole time I just wanted you. I didn't know it until I met you, but now I do. You're what I need, Emma," he insisted with a mixture of sincerity and absolute panic in his voice.

Emma sighed and gave him a forced smile. "You're just saying that. You want a serious relationship, and your problem is that you want one with me. I can't, Killian. I just can't give you that."

Killian edged forward again only to be met yet again with Emma's cold and halting hand. "Then, I don't want one," he fired back, desperate to convince her.

She'd been trying so hard and doing so well, but finally she broke. Tears fell freely from her eyes as she stared back at him in apology. She truly was sorry. She was sorry she was breaking up with him, and she was sorry that she was hurting him, but mostly, she was sorry that she would never be the woman he needed.

"You're going to wake up one morning, just liked you did with Milah, and realize that I'm not right for you," Emma countered firmly. "You have to find someone else," she choked as began to step back and close the door.

Killian began to protest as he saw her figuratively, _and literally_, shutting him out. "I don't want—"

"Goodbye, Killian," she whispered as she shut the door and rushed away, ignoring his shouts of protest from the hall. She locked herself in her room and cried herself to sleep.

* * *

"What the hell is going on between you and Killian?" Mary Margaret blurted as she forced her way into Emma's apartment.

Emma stood frozen, stunned by the fire in her friend's voice. Mary Margaret had never spoken to her like that before. Emma closed the door behind her and cautiously followed Mary Margaret into her living room.

"There is no _'me and Killian.'_ It's over," Emma responded firmly. Mary Margaret and David had been giving her hell for an entire week, but Emma was standing her ground.

"Why? This can't be because of Milah," Mary Margaret insisted firmly before adding, "because she's back in Chicago, Emma. You know Killian never even entertained the thought of getting back together with her."

Emma glared at her friend in defiance. Mary Margaret didn't understand. _She couldn't understand._ "This isn't about _her_; this is about Killian. He was going to leave me anyway. Milah just reminded me of that." They always leave. Why would he be any different?

"Killian cares about you, Emma. He's good for you," Mary Margaret argued back fiercely. The stared at each other in silence for what felt like an eternity before Mary Margaret finally continued. "I just want you to be happy again," she said sadly.

Emma gave her friend a forced smile as she answered. "But am I good for him? Listen, its better this way—_easier_. In the long run, Killian and I wouldn't have worked."

Mary Margaret's face fell at her friend's words. "You think those walls of yours are keeping out pain, Emma, but they're not; they're keeping it in. I hope you realize that before it's too late." Mary Margaret said firmly, a single tear rolling down her cheek before she left in defeat, slamming the door on her way out.

* * *

Emma was still bothered by her disagreement with Mary Margaret a few days after the incident. Mary Margaret hadn't called or texted her once, which was very un-Mary Margaret-like behavior. Emma threw on her gym clothes and grabbed her boxing gloves, deciding to blow off some steam and clear her head.

Just as Emma reached her door, she froze mid-step, as a white object on the floor caught her attention. Emma bent down to find a blank, white envelope had been slid under her door. She grimaced because she knew exactly who it was from.

Emma held the envelope in her hand and stared at it in distress. She was completely at war over what decision to make. She should simply sneak down the hall and shove it under Killian's door, unopened. That would send a message. Still, Emma's heart was screaming at her to just open it and read what he'd written.

Emma rolled her eyes, completely ashamed of herself as she slowly tore open the envelope and removed a card from inside. Her heart panged in her chest because she hated this- _she hated all of this._

She looked at the front of the card, which pictured a lone sailboat at sea. Inside the card was blank save for a simple note in all too familiar handwriting. _'We miss you.'_ To make matters worse, it was signed _'Killian and Wendy'_ with green turtle claw prints along the bottom.

Emma fell to the floor and sobbed as she clutched the card to her chest and imagined that stupid idiot dipping a turtle's claws in paint and pressing them against the card. She wanted to go down there—just down the hall a few feet— and tell him how absurd he was, and see if poor Wendy's claws were still green, and feed her bananas, and run her fingers along the stubble on Killian's chin and gaze into his stunning blue eyes and be enveloped in calm as she always was when she was with those two.

_But she couldn't. _

She'd gotten too close to the Sun, and if she hadn't pulled away when she did, _she would have gotten burned_. This was the right decision. It didn't matter how much she missed him or their—_his_, she inwardly corrected— turtle. She would be hurting so much more if she had stuck around and awaited the inevitable breakup.

This was her preemptive strike, and it was a smart move. This was best for both her and Killian. She just had to remind herself of that some days. She thought seriously of slipping the card under his door, but she couldn't bring herself to do it— because then she acknowledged that she'd read it, she reasoned— so instead she stuck it safely under her bed, vowing to never look at it again.

* * *

To Emma's dismay, Mary Margaret decided to start speaking to Emma again just the next day. Except, all Mary Margaret wanted to speak about was Killian.

"_You were your happiest when you were with him. You use to smile all the time, Emma. I miss that smile."_

Emma did not need this, especially on the two week anniversary of Milah's return, and thus, her breakup with Killian.

Emma just couldn't stand it. He was probably with some other woman just down the hall from her. _They were both probably talking with Wendy right now, _Emma thought bitterly as she returned to her apartment after a long day of work.

Emma opened her door, put her purse down, and headed into the kitchen as she usually would, except this time was different. She walked past the kitchen table, and then walked right back to get a second look.

On her table was a vase filled with bright, red flowers. _Roses_ this time, a seemingly obvious choice, except Killian had never given them to her while they were dating. There was no card, but Emma knew they were from him — he had the key to her apartment. Her heart squeezed in her chest as she admired the gorgeous bouquet and vase, but she quickly shook those sentimental thoughts from her mind.

She had the locks changed the next day.

* * *

Emma had felt sick all day— not from a cold, but from the feeling of anxiety and dread that refused to leave her body. Today would have been her five month anniversary with Killian, and all she wanted to do was stay and in bed and cry.

She hated herself for being weak, but mostly for getting so attached. Their relationship ended just over three weeks ago. Enough was enough. She forced herself out of bed and angrily tossed the box of tissues resting on her nightstand across her bedroom. She wouldn't need them today because she was Emma Swan: a strong, independent woman who refused to shed any more tears over that dumb bastard, Killian Jones.

Of course, on the day Emma needed them most, the criminals of Boston let her down. Typical. Work was painfully slow that day, which left Emma with far too much time to spend blocking—well, _attempting _to block— Killian from her thoughts.

Finally, her long day came to an end, and Emma headed home. Right when Emma returned from work, her phone buzzed, alerting her of a text message:

_Turn on the radio, now! _

Emma reread Mary Margaret's message twice, completely stumped as to why she needed to listen to the radio. Still, she did as her friend instructed.

_And this next song goes out to Emma from Killian and Wendy: "Happy Together" by The Turtles. _

Emma's mouth fell open as the song began to sound through her living room — because Killian requested a song for her on the radio and _The Turtles_. Really. _Really_?

God, what a dork. What a sweet, sensitive, mature yet fun-loving dork who brought her flowers and took care of her when she was sick, and teased her and hugged her and _loved her_. Yes, he did. He _loved_ her. She knew he loved her. And she-

The sound of knocking on her door, _his knock_, interrupted her thoughts.

Emma pulled open the door to find Killian standing before her, panting furiously. "Don't shut the door!" he cried holding his hands up to stop her. "I ran up here from the parking lot! You have to turn on the radio, now!" he shouted between ragged breaths.

"I did. Mary Margaret texted me," Emma answered quietly, biting her lip and fidgeting with her hands awkwardly.

"Oh," Killian responded nervously before shuffling on his feet. "And…?" he said, willing her to reply, but secretly just relieved that she was finally, _finally_ talking to him.

"The Turtles. Really?" Emma blurted out in amusement.

Killian let out a nervous chuckle. "I thought it was clever. Anyway, Wendy misses you," he admitted solemnly before replying in a broken whisper, "and, so do I." He scratched his ear nervously as he waited for her response on baited breath.

"I'm sure _Wendy_ will get along with your next girlfriend," Emma bit coldly.

Killian frowned at her words before shaking his head in disbelief. "Emma, there's not going to be a next girlfriend. There's no moving on from you. I'm not asking for a serious relationship, love; I'm just asking for you."

"You can't just change how you feel. You wanted a serious relationship," Emma argued in annoyance. Now he was blatantly _lying_ to her. What did he take her for, anyway? An idiot?

"I broke up with Milah because I realized that something was missing. I thought it was seriousness— I thought it was commitment, but I was wrong. I couldn't properly label _it_ until I had _it_ with you. It was—" he paused, eyebrows furrowed as he searched his mind, _and his heart_, for the right word. After a minute, he settled on one.

"It was fulfillment. I was never whole, _complete_ with her. Milah and I shared a good two years together, but Emma, I swear to you," he began sincerely as he reached out cautiously to take Emma's hand in his, a small smile forming on his face when she allowed him. "I swear, I have never been happier in my whole life, than I have been these past few months with you. Breaking my hand was the best thing that ever happened to me."

Emma was quiet as she stared into his sea blue eyes. He wasn't lying; her detector would have been able to tell. Could she do this? Him, this relationship, it was all so much. And yet, if she was being honest with herself, she'd have to admit her time with Killian had been the happiest in her life, too.

"Everything will be okay," Killian insisted as he stared at her sincerely, _lovingly_.

She smiled at his assurance because he was right. This _one_ time she would admit that he was right.

_They were going to be okay._

* * *

**Well folks, this is the last official chapter of _When One Door Closes_, but don't go anywhere just yet; there's an epilogue coming soon that you won't want to miss! I so hope you enjoyed this chapter and have enjoyed the story overall. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this update!**


	7. Chapter 7

**At last, we have arrived at the epilogue of the story. I'm so sad to see it end, but I'm also overwhelmingly happy about the positive support and encouragement I have received from all of you. Thank you so much for all your kind reviews and messages. **

**While this is the epilogue, I truly don't think I'll stop here. I just can't see myself staying away from Killian, Emma, and Wendy for too long. I plan on posting occasional one shots about their future together. **

* * *

Despite her efforts, Emma couldn't help but let a few stray tears past her defenses when Mary Margaret was finally zipped into her dress and was fitted with her veil. She made a stunning bride, and Emma was over the moon with happiness for her friend—_both _her friends. Mary Margaret and David decided to hold their wedding on the one year anniversary of their first date, and in the time Emma had known David, the two had become quite close.

Emma could tell Mary Margaret had been nervous all morning as they were getting ready, but her friend didn't truly let her guard down until they were standing together outside of the gorgeous, oak doors of the church.

Mary Margaret rubbed her hands together anxiously before she turned to Emma and whispered, "Do you think he'll like the dress, Emma?"

Emma gave her friend a soft smile in return. She knew Mary Margaret was nervous about much more than the dress, but as soon as those church doors opened, all her worries were sure to fade away. "You look gorgeous, Mary Margaret," she replied confidently as she pulled her into a tight hug.

"Now, are you ready?" Emma asked as she stepped behind Mary Margaret and straightened out her train.

Mary Margaret nodded quickly as two ushers stepped forward to pull the doors open before them. She paused for a minute to take a deep breath before she started her walk down the aisle. Emma followed behind, carrying her friend's train and keeping it straight.

As they walked through the church doors, Emma's eyes locked with Killian's from his place beside David at the altar. She felt her heart stop in her chest for a moment and tears prick at her eyes because he was at the end of an aisle watching her and one day, _someday_, all of this—the guests, flowers, music—was going to be for _them_.

And, even though Emma was there for Mary Margaret, she couldn't stop her mind from wandering to another day where she would be the one wearing white, and Killian would be the one with the excited and amazed grin at the altar. Wendy would be the ring bearer, _of course_, and some poor fool, _probably David_, would be tasked with escorting her down the aisle. It would all be so perfect.

After a short walk down the aisle, chorused by violin music and the sniffles of the Blanchards to their left and David's mother, Ruth, to their right, Mary Margaret and Emma finally arrived at the altar.

When Mary Margaret and David joined hands and stepped forward before the priest, Emma and Killian were finally left facing each other as they stood at their friends' sides. Even though they didn't exchange words, a million thoughts were exchanged between them— mostly a promise that they would be doing this one day, too.

Emma would never have even entertained the idea of a marriage just a year ago, but life was different with Killian.

* * *

The dance floor at the reception was packed with couples, including Killian and Emma. She tried to fight against it, but Killian wouldn't back down, threatening to dance right there at their table if she didn't join him on the floor.

They swayed to the music, a slow song, which was a relief for Emma because that required minimal skill on her part. However, just as Emma was getting comfortable with dancing _in front of people,_ resting her head against Killian's shoulder and relishing in his warmth, the song changed to a more upbeat one.

Stevie Wonder's "For Once in My Life" began blasting from the stereo. Killian gave her a knowing wink and started waggling his shoulders in a way that simultaneously embarrassed Emma and made her want to strip him naked and do wicked, _wicked_ things to him right on that dance floor.

How could he make being a dork sexy? No matter how long they were together, Emma had a funny feeling she would never quite figure out his trick.

She stood still for a second before he yanked her by the arm and spun her around. "Please, Killian, don't. I actually _know _these people," Emma protested in absolute horror as Killian continued to do his best to get her to dance with him.

He rolled his eyes and tut his tongue at her in disappointment. "Swan, please, _work with me_."

Emma let out a sigh and looked over to see Mary Margaret looking on, laughing at the two of them. Emma gave Killian a quick glare before she gave in and joined him, moving back and forth to the music.

After a few songs, she had to admit that she was having fun. They were both awful dancers. _Truly horrific._ But their awkward and dated danced moves were compatible in a ridiculous and beautiful sort of way.

Right on time, once the two were running out of steam, the DJ played another slow song for the crowd. Killian held Emma against his chest and leaned his cheek against the top of her head as they swayed to the music.

"Do you think we'll be doing this someday, love—getting married?" he whispered against her golden hair.

Emma nuzzled against his neck and closed her eyes, completely entranced by the song and his warm arms around her. "Maybe," she replied with a devilish smirk, knowing exactly how he would respond. She was quite certain that they would get married, but she just couldn't pass up an opportunity to tease him.

"Maybe!" he shot back in offense.

"_Probably._" Emma corrected as she hugged him tighter, before tacking on confidently, "Don't be silly. You know we will."

Killian let out a calm sigh before he held her closer and simply whispered back, "Good."

* * *

Once the reception was winding down and it was nearly time for everyone to depart, Mary Margaret and David got ready for the traditional festivities. First, was the throwing of the bouquet.

Emma did not want to participate, _at all_, but Mary Margaret firmly refused to throw her flowers until Emma agreed to stand amongst the crowd of Mary Margaret's single friends and cousins. A few of the women nudged against each other, trying to force their way to the front, but Emma simply stood off to side, completely disinterested.

Mary Margaret lifted her hands in the air to throw the bouquet behind her, but before she did, Mary Margaret peeked over her back to spy where Emma was standing. Emma's face pulled into a grimace because she _knew_ what her friend was doing, but before Emma could move, Mary Margaret had turned to her side and thrown the flowers directly into Emma's unwilling hands.

"Good catch, Emma!" Mary Margaret squeaked as all the women clapped and cheered for Emma. Her face was beet red as she glared at Mary Margaret defiantly.

"_That was subtle_," Emma scoffed as Mary Margaret stepped forward to pull her into a crushing hug.

Mary Margaret pulled away and gave Emma a somewhat apologetic look. "I'm sorry, but it's my wedding, and I can throw the flowers to whomever I want."

Emma laughed and nodded her head in acceptance as she departed the dance floor and headed off to the side to join up with Killian.

"Well, now I have to catch the garter," he said firmly as he gestured towards the bouquet in her hands.

Before Emma could beg him not to, David began beckoning all the single men in the room to the dance floor. Killian rushed off to join them, his entire being oozing with determination.

Emma rolled her eyes and mentally prepared herself. If he caught the garter, Mary Margaret and David would tease them about an impending wedding to no end, and Killian would encourage them.

_Bastard. _

Many of the groomsmen and a few other men all gathered on the dance floor and jostled around for a better position. Killian was very visibly forcing his way to the front and moving around from side to side, trying to anticipate where David may toss the garter.

Finally, after some teasing, David turned around and threw the garter towards the crowd of men. Killian pushed – _yes pushed_ – two poor guys out of his way as he leapt forward to catch the garment. During the tussle, Killian tripped over the leg of one of his victims and came crashing to the ground, landing hard on his left arm.

From his place on the ground, Killian slowly raised his right arm in triumph, showing that he'd caught the garter. The crowd burst into applause, but Emma hesitantly stepped forward as she heard the muffled sound of his moans.

Killian whined in pain and didn't move, which caused Emma and David to both rush towards him on the floor. They reached him at the same time, and David helped turned Killian over onto his back.

"Look, Emma, I caught the garter," he spat proudly through ragged, pained breaths as he handed her the garter and clutched his left hand to his chest.

Emma brushed her hand through his hair, trying to calm him as she carefully pulled at his arm to get a better look at the hurt hand.

She sent David off to get ice so she and Killian would be alone. She knew he didn't want his friend seeing him hurt. "This just isn't your year, buddy," she whispered knowingly down to him.

He gave her a tight grin and without missing a beat responded back, "This most certainly _was _my year, Swan."

She leaned forward to press a kiss against his lips. "I love you."

"I love you too," he answered, staring at her with complete adoration.

Then, as if she was reliving one of the most important days from her past, Emma helped Killian out of the reception hall and into her bug. She buckled his seatbelt and made the familiar drive through Boston's busy streets to the hospital. When they arrived, she filled out his paper, _left hand again_, just as she'd done last year.

Name: _Killian Jones._ Blood Type: _B positive_. Emergency Contact: —

She then paused, staring down at the words as she was filled with a sense of completeness. Killian was chatting animatedly next to her about the honeymoon he'd helped plan for David and Mary Margaret in Europe.

She smiled to herself and laughed softly before scribbling down— _Emma Swan._

* * *

**Again, I cannot thank you all enough for your incredible support. Please leave one last review to let me know your thoughts on the epilogue, and do stick around because I'll try to post follow-ups every now and then! **


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